Metaphors No More
by HeKillsWithHisSmile
Summary: In which Chloe has seen the truth, Lucifer runs away, Dr Linda talks to them both and Chloe and Lucifer finally have a talk that we all desperately need them to have. Set immediately after A Devil of My Word.


**_A/N. Hi all! This is my first fanfiction for Lucifer, so apologies for any inaccuracies anywhere. Me and a friend literally binged-watched the series rather than doing Uni work (and have both become seriously obsessed), so things are pretty much a blur regarding when certain things happen. I published this on AO3 the other week, so it's taken me a while to get round to posting it here. I hope it's alright still. Let me know what you think - tusen takk og nyt!_ _(my Norwegian is still pretty bad)_**

* * *

 _"It's all true."_

 _"Detective?"_

A longer life isn't always a better one, Lucifer thought. Especially not when the face of the person you care most about is staring at you in a look of pure, unadulterated horror.

For as long as he lived, he knew he would never be able to stop seeing her face that way as if she was standing right in front of him. There had been many times over the last few years that he had wanted to tell her, but things had always managed to get in the way. First it had been him being kidnapped and then his 'devil-face' had been taken away from him. And then there was the underlying issue that part of him hadn't wanted to tell her; hadn't wanted to risk losing her; hadn't wanted to risk _seeing that look on her face_. But there was nothing he could do about it now. The truth was out. The Detective knew.

Once he had realised what had happened, he had fled. Unleashed his wings and flew as fast and as far away as he could. What else could he have done? The place was about to be infested with police officers. He didn't know how they were going to make sense of it all, but the Detective would figure something out.

If she ever recovered from the shock, that was.

He tried not to think about that as he made his way towards Lux. He wasn't going to stay long, he knew he had to get away from here. Maybe indefinitely, maybe not, he couldn't say. But right now, he needed to leave. Right now, he needed to be as far away from the Detective as he could.

So, he packed up, the penthouse now void of Dan, Ella and Pierce's henchman. He wouldn't return to Hell, that was for sure. Deep inside, he knew that was where he should go, but something stopped him. He knew that was where he deserved to go, but somehow that felt like an easy way out. Besides, he knew who he had just sent down there and he didn't really want to risk crossing paths with _him_ again.

He left his penthouse with nothing but a handful of money. He needed to go somewhere where he would blend in; where no one would ask too many questions; where he could get away and hide in the crowd of millions.

He was on the next flight to London within a couple of hours.

And he didn't plan on coming back any time soon.

* * *

Chloe sat, curled up, on her sofa, staring blankly into space. She could barely remember how she had gotten there, but there were snippets of Dan pulling her away from Pierce's body, away from the scene, driving her home and making her a coffee. At some point she must have told him to go - though she couldn't remember when - because he had taken Trixie with him, telling her that he would look after her until Chloe felt better.

Felt better? She wasn't sick. She had just been shot at but her ex fiancé, somehow transported to the roof of the building, found out the man she thought she knew and cared deeply for was the _actual devil_ , and had seen him flee the scene in a mess of white and red-stained wings.

But no, she wasn't sick.

But maybe she needed to speak to Linda - she needed someone to talk to.

Without her realising it, she had sent a text to Linda consisting of barely coherent sentences.

 _...Lucifer...case...Pierce...stabbed...devil...Lucifer...gone…_

Chloe, don't panic, I'm on my way

The first thing that Linda did when she arrived on Chloe's doorstep was give her friend a hug. Chloe's text had been perfectly clear to her and Linda had an inkling as to where this conversation was headed. Chloe knew. She could see in her eyes that Chloe knew the truth about Lucifer. It wasn't just her years as working as a therapist that told her that, it was because she had had the same look of terror and confusion on her face when she had found out the truth. The question was, how had she found out? Had Lucifer finally let his guard down enough to show her, or had something else happened that had been out of their control?

"Chloe, come on, sit down. I'll make us some drinks and then you can explain what happened," Linda said. Chloe nodded, but Linda could tell that she hadn't really heard her.

"You know, don't you?" Linda asked as she passed Chloe a cup of tea. "About Lucifer?"

Taking the mug, Chloe just nodded as Linda came to sit on the sofa next to her.

"You've got the same look on your face as I did when I found out."

That seemed to bring Chloe back to herself somewhat. She looked over at her friend. "You knew?"

Linda nodded. "I've known for a while. Took me about a week to get over it. The devil is real, and he is a patient and a friend of mine. In all my years, I never would have expected to ever have that happen."

"He's the Devil."

Linda sighed, hoping to try and bring her friend around enough that they could talk about this properly. "Listen, Chloe, I know this is hard for you. Everything you thought you knew has changed and your understanding of the things around you is never going to be the same. But you can't let it get to you, you can't let yourself become too overwhelmed by all of this."

Chloe looked Linda in the eye. "How do I get over this?" She asked. "He's the Devil."

"But he's still the same Lucifer you went to work with this morning. The same Lucifer that you've been working with all this time. The same Lucifer that you care very much about."

Chloe had nothing to say to that. Deep down, she knew that what Linda was saying was correct. Lucifer was the Devil, yes, he was the ruler of Hell, but that didn't change who he was. He really had been honest with her from the start. All the metaphors he had used that she had just brushed aside; they hadn't been metaphors at all - they were real. He had told the truth when he had said that he never lied. She had known right from the start that there was something different about Lucifer Morningstar and she had made it her mission to find out who he really was. When had that stopped? When had she stopped caring who he really was? When she had refused to test his blood? When she had seen that video showing his more-than-human strength? When she had started to believe that they could have more between them then just a Detective-Consultant relationship?

"Why don't you tell me what happened, Chloe?"

So she did. She told Linda everything. About breaking it off with Pierce, about Pierce being the one to kill Charlotte, about them going after Pierce, about the fight in building, about Pierce shooting her. She rambled on, her words rolling together until she was just talking and not recognising the words she was saying.

When she reached the moment she had seen his face, Chloe finally took a breath. She felt exhausted. Saying out loud had felt like lifting a weight off her chest somehow, but it still didn't make any of it any easier to comprehend.

"Where is he now? Where did Lucifer go?"

"He's gone. He flew away."

"Try calling him," Linda suggested. "When you're ready. Tell him you want to talk."

Chloe just nodded, silently wondering if she would ever feel ready to face him again.

* * *

She had tried calling him for the first time two days later. She hadn't slept well in that time and was thankful that Trixie was still with Dan. She hadn't returned to work either in that time, having been told that she should take some time off while investigations into their late lieutenant's death were going on and his connections to the death of Charlotte Richards. Unresisting, Chloe had used the time to try and get her head around what had happened and eventually had felt emotionally strong enough to try and contact Lucifer.

But she had received no answer.

That had been three days ago. And there was still no answer from him. She had begun to wonder if he had just taken off, like that time before. Maybe he thought it was best, but that didn't excuse him from not answering her calls or texts. Couldn't he see that she wanted to talk to him?

Chloe kept trying, though, but the sound of Lucifer's voicemail was starting to become a tad monotonous.

Something inside her finally snapped, and she threw her phone down on the breakfast bar. If he wasn't going to answer her, then the only thing left to do was go to him. She didn't know how much more of this silence she could take.

* * *

It was reasonably late when she arrived at Lux that evening, the club already full of people. Chloe stood at the top of the stairs, hoping to get a glimpse of the man ( _devil_?) she had come here to see.

But there was no sign of him.

Frowning, she walked up to the bar. No one else had seen him either, apparently he hadn't been seen at the club for a few days now.

Chloe's heart sunk, and a sense of dread made her stomach feel heavy. Maybe he really had gone. Maybe this time he wasn't coming back.

Nevertheless, she made her way up to the penthouse, hoping to find him sat at his piano, avoiding all contact.

The penthouse was empty.

"Lucifer?" She called, walking slowly in. She checked the bathroom, his bedroom and the balcony, but there was no sign of him anywhere.

The only positives she could see were that his possessions hadn't gone with him and the place hadn't been covered head-to-toe in white sheets. Maybe he would be coming back, after all. Maybe he had just needed some space and would be back soon.

Even so, Chloe still worried. So she looked around the penthouse, trying to locate a pad and pen and, upon finding one, left him a note.

Once she was done, she folded the piece of paper in half, wrote his name on one side and left it along with the pad and pen on the top of his piano. All she could do now was wait and hope that he would be back soon.

* * *

Lucifer did come back eventually. He had been gone for just over three weeks, but somehow it had felt longer.

London hadn't been all he had hoped it would. The people were different there; everyone was always rushing around from place to place and the tube just reminded him too much of Hell. He missed the warm sun of LA, the constant drizzle of rain and grey skies of London not helping his mood at all. He wanted to go home.

Because, although he would always struggle to say it aloud, he missed the people he could go as far as calling friends.

He missed Chloe.

But he still could not get her look of pure horror out of his head.

* * *

It didn't really take long to notice it when he stepped out of the lift and into the penthouse. It was the only thing out of place in the otherwise immaculate space.

He walked over to the piano and picked up the small piece of paper that sat there. On it was his name, written in handwriting he knew all too well. So she had been here, then. But why? Why would she even want to see him? To make sure that he stayed away; that he wouldn't come near her or her daughter again? The thought hurt more than he would admit and any momentary desire to open and read the note was simply cast aside in a second. He couldn't deal with her rejection. Not now. Potentially not ever.

So he simply crumpled the note up in his hand and threw it behind him, not once checking to see where it went.

What would have been the point if all it did was add to his ever-growing list of reasons to hate his entire existence?

Why had he even bothered to come back at all?

* * *

He was still asking himself that question three days later.

In those three days, he hadn't once left the penthouse. Not even to go downstairs into the club. Every night he could hear the beat of the music, feel some of the vibrations underneath his floorboards, but not once felt any desire to go and join in on the party.

No one came up, either. No one even knew he was there. If the Detective had been up at some point during his absence, then it made sense that others would have been too. But it was clear that they thought he was gone and wasn't coming back any time soon. And that suited him just fine. He didn't need anyone. Really. And if he did, he was Lucifer Morningstar, he could literally have anyone at any time he desired.

He just didn't desire anyone right now.

And the more he told himself that, the more he started to believe it was true.

So, it surprised him, two days later, when there was the tell-tale ping of the lift, alerting Lucifer that he was no longer alone.

* * *

Linda walked through the doors of the lift into the penthouse and eyed up the space, hoping to see any sign of the man she was looking for. She knew that at some point Lucifer would make his way back here, and so felt the need to see if he was indeed back yet and if he was okay. Since his disappearance after the ordeal with Cain and Chloe finally realising the truth, this was only her second visit to the penthouse. She knew Lucifer well enough to know that he needed space and time. The last time Lucifer had freaked out a bit and disappeared, he had come back after two weeks. This time, she knew it would take a little more time, but she was certain he would be back eventually.

Which explained why she was there then, looking for him. Upon her arrival, she could see nothing that indicated he was home. There was no whisky glass on the piano top and from what she could make out, his bedsheets were as pristine as could be. Maybe he needed longer than she had thought. She had tried to call him, several times, but to no avail. She suddenly felt herself doubting her own positivity. Maybe he truly was gone this time.

She called his name once, hoping that might elicit some kind of sign that he was around, but there came no reply. She was about to turn and head back down when she noticed something on the floor by the wall to her left-hand side.

It was a crumpled piece of paper. To anyone else, it may not have meant much, but Linda knew that Lucifer wasn't someone who went around throwing pieces of paper around his home and leaving them there. And, from what she could remember, it hadn't been there on her last visit, which meant he must be home - or at least he had been back at some point between her visits.

Linda bet down and retrieved the paper. Flattening it out, she could see that it was a note addressed to Lucifer and she recognised the handwriting as Chloe's. Linda knew that Chloe had been round, but she hadn't mentioned that she'd left Lucifer a note.

Knowing that she really shouldn't but wanting to know why Lucifer would throw this so carelessly aside, Linda read it.

"She doesn't want to see me."

Linda jumped at the sound, nearly dropping the note to the floor. She looked up and saw Lucifer standing a little way in front of her on the other side of the piano. He was wearing one of his suits, but it didn't look as though he had put any effort into his attire at all. His waistcoat was undone and the top buttons on his shirt had been forgotten about. His hair wasn't in its usual slick-back style and sat in messy curls on the top of his head. He looked tired.

There were many things that Linda could have said to him just then, but she went with the simplest of all the questions she wanted to ask.

"Have you spoken to her?"

"There's no need, she left that," he nodded to the note in Linda's hand.

"Did you read it?"

"Didn't need to."

Linda sighed. Of course he would see the note and jump to conclusions without reading it first.

"Lucifer, read it."

He shook his head, adamantly standing where he was.

"I don't need to," he repeated. "The look on her face when she saw who I really was was enough for me to understand that she never wants to see me again. Why then, eh? Why that moment to give me back my devil face? Is it because I killed Cain - Well?!" Lucifer's voice rose in anger as he looked up at the ceiling directing his questions towards his father.

"Lucifer, calm down," Linda told him, knowing that it was futile and that he was unlikely to listen.

"She doesn't want me in her life, doctor, and that note will just prove it."

Linda shook her head. "That's not what this is."

"No?" Lucifer questioned incredulously, shoving his hands in his pockets and leaning forward slightly. "What is it then? A letter telling me that all is well and that, no matter what, I'm not really the devil; that I'm not evil, that no matter how much I wanted to take Pierce's life it doesn't matter because he really deserved it?"

Linda looked down from Lucifer's gaze, trying to ignore the crazed look in his eye and the sarcasm that coated every word he said. He had always been one of her hardest patients to get through to and as much as she tried, there was times where Linda became close to throttling him just to get him to listen.

This was one of those times. No matter how broken he seemed.

"Just read it," she calmly tried to tell him.

His gaze softened slightly, and it was like he was falling to pieces in front of her.

"I can't."

Deciding that this couldn't go on, Linda walked up to him. Lucifer instinctively stepped back at first, but eventually allowed Linda to get within arm's length of him. She held up the note and the look in her eye was one that Lucifer had learnt to understand that she wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Lucifer, read it."

Slowly, he took the piece of paper out of her hands and forced his eyes to look at the words on the page. He never realised before just how much he loved the Detective's handwriting. It was neat; modern, yet with a timeless twist. Slanted and joined up, but not indecipherable. To him, it was very her, so her in fact that he couldn't pinpoint why.

He forced himself to read the words that were written; his eyes scanned the graphology as his brain worked out their meanings.

He was taken by surprise at what he read, and Linda couldn't help herself as a small smiled formed on her face.

"I was...wrong," Lucifer admitted quietly, looking up from the paper to Linda.

Linda just nodded, knowing that it was best to let Lucifer work out the next step on his own without her help.

"I need to go to her," he said, putting the note on the piano and making his way towards the lift of the penthouse.

"Lucifer," Linda called after him.

"Yes, doctor?"

"Remember she's probably still a bit shaken up, don't do anything to ruin this."

"You have my word," he promised and left her alone.

Linda sighed, praying to all that she could that things between him and Chloe could be fixed.

* * *

Rather than just entering like he usually did, Lucifer knocked on the door of the apartment. He didn't immediately hear the call of the Detective's offspring so assumed she was thankfully alone. His heart was beating wildly in his chest in a way that he had never felt before. He tried to calm himself down in the moments that he had before the door opened. He already felt nervous enough, he didn't particularly want to look nervous as well.

When the door finally did open, Lucifer's breath hitched as he laid eyes upon the Detective for the first time in weeks. She looked no different to the last time he had seen her.

But there was still a hint of fear in her eyes that hadn't gone away.

"Lucifer?" She asked, her voice trying to hold as she looked up at her partner - the Devil - taking in his appearance.

"Hello Detective," he said simply, not making any attempt to push passed her into her home as he usually might have.

"You're back,"

He nodded. "I… I read your note. You want to talk," it was meant as a statement, but Lucifer couldn't help the intonation of his voice rising slightly as it turned into a question.

Chloe nodded and moved out of the way to let him inside.

Lucifer couldn't help but notice how stiff and tense her actions were as she made her way over the kitchen area to make herself a coffee. Instinctively she made Lucifer one, too, even though she hadn't yet asked him. After everything that had happened, there were some habits that just didn't die.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Lucifer commented after a moment of silence between the two of them.

Chloe stopped what she was doing and looked down, not wanting to look him straight in the eye. "I don't know. I… I was. I was terrified. When I first saw you over Marcus' body and there was this _face_ staring back at me, I was so scared. And when you spoke, the fact that it still had your voice just made it worse and then you just flew away. But now… I dunno, I haven't seen you in so long and..." some of the tension in her body seemed to deflate for a second before she continued. "Everything you said to me is true," she looked up at him. "All of your metaphors and strange comments, they weren't them at all. I've seen you do things that now all make sense: your ability to get people to talk, your strength. I knew something was different about you, but I always found a way to either explain it or ignore it."

"Detective…"

She cut him off. "No, Lucifer, please, I need to say this," she took a breath. "This is hard for me. Everything I thought I knew about the world has been changed and I have to learn to adjust to this newfound knowledge. I have to learn to accept that there's so much more to you than meets the eye; that you're not actually human, that you're really the Devil." She looked at him briefly, he was no longer looking at her. His eyes were downcast and there was an element of hurt that glazed over his features. She felt for him and hoped that what she had to say next would pick him back up.

"And I have to learn that none of that really matters. That, whoever you may really be, you're still the same Lucifer who has worked alongside me for all this time; the same Lucifer who can be a pain in the ass, but who I know truly cares. I have to learn to accept that things may not be exactly the same as they were, but I am willing to try and make sure that none of this ever gets in the way of us."

She walked over to him, then, coffee in hand. When she reached him, she held out the mug and waited for him to take it.

He looked at her in complete awe and bewilderment as he gently took the mug from her hand. Their fingers brushed slightly, but it was enough to send shock waves up Lucifer's arms in ways that he had only thought possible in human literature and film. Here she was, not running away, not screaming at him to go away and to leave her alone, but standing right in front of him, willingly, despite now knowing the truth.

She had finally run out of ways to surprise him.

"You're stuck with me," she told him, her lips curling into a small smile.

"Yes," Lucifer replied, his voice soft and his lips curling into the smallest of smiles of his own. "It appears so."

They stared at each other for a while, neither wanting to break the moment between them. But there was still so much that needed to be said. Lucifer knew there was still more he needed to explain.

"Detective...Chloe," he started, quietly, as if not to disturb the air around them. "There's more I have to tell you."

Chloe nodded and took a seat on the sofa, Lucifer following her more cautiously. He was still shocked that she seemed to be taking this so well and he worried that one false movement could scare her off for good.

"Tell me," Chloe told him as he finally seemed to settle. "I want to know."

"Very well," Lucifer nodded.

He told her everything. Everything he told her he knew he had mentioned before, but this time Chloe believed him. This time, she knew what he was saying was the truth. He told her about his family, about the rebellion and about him being cast out. He told her about how he had hated the way that he had been treated and abandoned, left alone to punish the evil.

As he talked, Chloe listened. It hurt her to know just how difficult his life had been and just how much he hated being the personification of all things evil. But worst of all, she hated how he actually believed it.

When he came to the end of his story, Chloe moved along the sofa, closer to him.

"Lucifer, I'm so sorry," she told him. "For everything that you've been through. No one should have to face what you have - celestial being or not."

Lucifer smiled slightly at that.

But his face soon became serious again.

"I have more to say, but this time, it concerns you," he looked at her and the look in his eyes caused Chloe to look back at him in confusion. He looked almost...hurt? Sad? She couldn't quite make it out.

"As much as I want it to be so, I can never tell if what is between us is real or not," he started. Chloe made to interrupt him, but Lucifer wouldn't let her, she needed to understand. "My father put you in my path, Detective. He made it so that we would meet. Your mother and father couldn't conceive and so he sent Amenadiel to bless them, so they could have you. You're a miracle; a miracle put in my path. And I fear that any feelings you have for me are all part of His ineffable plan; that they're not really yours; that you can't choose otherwise."

Chloe looked at him, her eyes wide. She had always known that her mother and father had had difficulty having children, but she hadn't expected this. A part of her felt like she should be angry for being manipulated like this by a higher power she hadn't believed in up until a few weeks ago. But the rational part of her told her that there was no need for her anger and that Lucifer was mistaken in his assumption.

"Lucifer, listen to me," she grabbed hold of his hands and made him turn towards her. "My feelings for you are real. Even if I'm still working them out. Your father might have given me a place on this earth and guided me towards you, but that doesn't mean I don't have free will. Besides, does anyone choose who they fall for? It just happens, no one knows why, and no one will ever be able to explain it. I may be a miracle, as you put it, but my feelings for you, Lucifer, they are real. Maybe the realest I've ever felt."

He wanted to say something back, but words failed him.

He tried to think of something to say but didn't get the chance before he suddenly felt her lips cover his own. Lucifer could count the amount of times the Detective and he had kissed over the time they had known each other, but each time never failed to feel like the first and never failed to make him feel things that he never felt with anyone else.

When they pulled apart, Lucifer looked at Chloe in nothing but wonder.

"You never fail to amaze me, Detective. I'm not worthy of you."

Chloe smiled warmly. "You are, Lucifer. To me, you are."

"Chloe," he said. "I am the Devil, I don't deserve this."

"No. No Lucifer. I told you before, you aren't the Devil, not to me, not even now I know. You may be the former ruler of Hell and you may have been kicked out and fallen from Heaven. You may punish those both alive and dead who deserve it. One of your closest friends may be a Demon and your brother an Angel. Your father may be God. But you are not the Devil."

"I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, genuinely warmed by the Detective's words. He really didn't deserve her, and he wasn't sure he, or anyone else, ever would.

"You don't have to say anything," she told him. "You just have to start believing that you are more than what you think you are. And that you are deserving; you are worth it; and that this is real."

They smiled at each other then. And things just felt right. Things weren't perfect, but they seldom ever were. But despite that, and despite he knew that Chloe would still need some time to adjust to the sudden revelation, Lucifer had never felt happier. He would return back at the precinct and resume his duties as a civilian consultant and he would continue to work with the Detective like he had always done. And if he was lucky, and she wanted it too, they could finally build upon their relationship and continue to move forward with no current obstacles to hold them back.

Lucifer breathed a sigh of relief.

 _Everything's Okay_ , he thought. And for once in his life, he truly believed.


End file.
